


Precocious

by Niniva



Series: Pure Evil [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Jokes, I swear it's fluffy!, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Poetry, Scars, Underage Prostitution, sweet!John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 02:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17778566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niniva/pseuds/Niniva
Summary: Before TIPPING THE SCALES comes a deal with the devil.





	Precocious

**Author's Note:**

> After a character strutted up, plopped down on my desk, and informed me, "I'm a sadistic sociopath and I'll be your anti-hero for the foreseeable future," I asked Google how men experience sex. The reply was 3000 Spideypools. Somehow it only seems right to share this story here, with the people who made it possible.
> 
> Trigger Warning: Esa was abused physically, mentally, and sexually. In this prequel to Tipping the Scales, he is underage.

 

Tom barely had time to flip on the lamp in the motel room before the young man stripped naked, probably eager to get this transaction complete, get his fifty dollars, and get the hell back to his life. No matter, not yet filled out, the young man suited Tom’s tastes perfectly.

“You have condoms?” he asked while working up the nerve to look at the prostitute he’d picked up.

“Condoms?” the young man echoed, his voice richer than Tom anticipated from his wiry body.

“Protection? Prophylactics?” Tom quirked his brow.

Fuzzy in his peripheral vision, the young man’s form shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter; I have one.”

He’d been tossing his condom wallet into his suit jacket all week in hopes Gary from acquisitions wanted to do their one-time thing yet again. When he hadn’t seen Gary by the end of work Thursday, he intended to wait one more day. Instead he hit the stroll by the interstate in his hometown of Cottonfield.

Now the young prostitute stood barefooted on the grayed carpet of this shabby room. Calves of a runner, the lean muscle shifted. His prominent knees shuffled, constantly moving. His thighs bulged just a bit, a hint toward the man he’d become in time. Penis in hand, he stroked slowly along his shaft without shame, his boldness intoxicating. His narrow waist gave way to rippling abs and cut pecs. Chest still thin, the man’s shoulders flared a bit wide. His neck bent, bowing his head slightly.

Tom asked, “Hey, what should I call you?”

“Whatever ya want.” The man finally met his gaze.

Tom’s breath hitched. Not just gorgeous, he was stunning: the quirk of his lips, the furrow between his brows, the soulful eyes that fixed Tom with impatience. “Baby boy, you’re an angel, a living, breathing angel.”

“Yer ass must get jealous of all the shit that comes outta yer mouth.” The man snorted then. “We gonna do this thing or what?”

The thought of the man walking away, done with him, left Tom hollow. “Can I look at you first?” _Can I show you the world and watch your expression of wonder?_

“Yer dollar-two-ninety-eight.” A bundle of energy, the man never stood still.

In fact, he vibrated like a kid hyped up on sugar. “How old are you?” _Probably coked up._

“Does it matter?” He gave up stroking his erection, accepting that Tom wouldn’t be hurried.

Taller than Tom and all sinewy muscle, the young man had to be over the age of consent. “I guess not, but you look a little young.”

“Most folks like it that way.” Despite his noncommittal answer, he sat beside Tom on the bed, his shoulders relaxing just a bit.

“With a face like that, you should be asking ten times as much.” Maybe he’d just shot himself in the foot, but this guy shouldn’t be walking the stroll. If anything he belonged on the catwalks of Paris, Milan, and New York.

Another snort, this one had a bitter bite. “I ain’t nothin’ special.”

Tom fumbled with the buttons of his oxford. “Christ, you really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” The guy bored into him, expression dangerous. Thrilling.

“You’re breathtaking, the single most desirable man I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Flattery’ll get ya anywhere.” His brutal features softened with amusement. “Call me Esa. Seein’ as we’re gettin’ all buddy-buddy.”

“Hi, Esa, I’m Tom.” Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he twisted to shake hands. That first touch, too firm and too brief, sent a jolt of desire through him.

“Reckon ya know I need that fifty bucks even if ya just talk for an hour.”

Tom slipped out of his jacket, took out his billfold, scooped out five crisp Benjamins, and handed the neat stack to Esa. “There. How long will that buy me?”

“If that’s the way it’s gonna be, I’ll stay as long as ya want.” He chuckled then, the rumble too low for the thinness of his chest. When he got up to shove the money into his wallet, fresh cuts glistened between his shoulder blades alongside dozens of healed slices.

“What the hell?” _How could anyone mar such a perfect body?_

Esa turned to him with a snarl. “Ya handed it to me.” He peeled a hundred off the top and threw the rest at Tom, though they fluttered to the floor.

“Not that. Your back.” Too late to hide his horror and outrage, he resented his own lack of grace.

Esa shrank before his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I’ll go.” He wadded the remaining bill, shoved it into his wallet, and dropped his worn jeans in favor of his ratty tee. “Ain’t nobody wanna see that.” Movements jerky and quick, he yanked the shirt over his head.

 _No, no, no, no, no!_ Tom shot to his feet, barely suppressing the urge to grab the man before he could leave.

Esa’s head snapped up, no doubt ready to rip Tom’s nuts off, but at least that meant he’d touch Tom one more time. And goodness have mercy, Tom would eagerly crawl through broken whiskey bottles before swimming the Dead Sea for that meager pleasure, even if he lost his balls in the process.

“You can’t go. By my figures, I’ve got two hours.” He held his breath.

Esa slowed but continued to dress, his taut ass disappearing into denim. “Ya ain’t interested in some broke fuck like me, so why’d ya care?” Hands tight, his rage lashed Tom with palpable force.

Hopeful, Tom patted the bulge in his pants. “Oh, I’m definitely interested.”

That made Esa loosen up, even grin a little. “Glad there’s still one thing I can do right. ’Bout all I’m good for.”

Tom thrilled when he grazed the tight biceps nearest him, the flesh warm and inviting. “If this is what you’re good at, then take pride in it.”

Oh, a blush! And those dark lashes against his cheek. “Fuck,” Esa muttered.

When he didn’t elaborate further, Tom replied, “Please?”

“I reckon I got tonight free. Seein’ as I done got that fifty.” Yet Esa didn’t move toward the bed.

Compelled, Tom lifted the hem of the man’s shirt. “Exquisite… Perfect… Irresistible…” He longed to punctuate each word with a kiss to the tan skin he exposed but didn’t dare. “No one’s ever going to care about those scars. Not when you’re a bronzed god. Not when you’re the inspiration that makes poets and sculptors breathe.”

“ _Else moonstruck and madness alike._ ”

“ _I track him in vain._ ” Tom answered, his reply automatic.

Beyond that, the man’s drawled line, so different from the quotation in Tom’s head, struck him dumb. The final line, his own reply, left him heartsick at the thought of chasing this faun in futility. Even as his need pooled deep in his body, urging him forward, Tom gained sense enough to ask, “You know Wilde?”

“I know some poetry, if that’s what ya mean.” Esa grabbed his shirt and tugged it over his head, giving Tom the impression that he preferred to be naked. “Had some time to kill. Never could keep ‘The Raven’ straight, but most the rest is up there.”

Despite the undignified way his hands shook, Tom finished unbuttoning his dress shirt without popping any of the frustrating little buggers to the floor. “You don’t seem the type for poetic recitations.”

“I ain’t.”

He couldn’t imagine why such a ruffian might memorize poetry, but their shared appreciation piqued his interest. To keep from offering the entire world all wrapped up in a bow, he needed to clear his head of the stupefying desire that had plagued him all week.

“Is it—?” Tom licked his lips. _How to put this delicately?_ “I know sex workers don’t like kissing, but would it be okay—?”

“Do what ya want. That’s what I’m here for.” The way he said that, Tom imagined he meant here on Earth, not this cheap motel room.

“Next time I’m taking you somewhere posh. With room service.” Careful to keep his hands back, lest he latch on and refuse to let go, he leaned in to brush his lips against the man’s jaw.

“Next time?” Esa rippled with amusement. “There ain’t even been a this time.”

“Let’s fix that.” The must of the man hit him with a charged aroma, more petrichor than musk. The ache between his legs ran down his thighs and coiled in the pit of his stomach like a viper. “Otherwise I think it’d kill me.”

“Then yer a lucky fella; I kinda like ya.” With that revelation he leaned closer until his bare chest bumped Tom’s.

Too much and not enough, Tom forced his mind to quiet. First things first: check for any blatant signs of VD. _I hope this isn’t offensively obvious._

Tom placed a hand behind the younger man’s neck.

Oh, that shiver! It touched him in places nothing else had ever reached.

Then he ran his fingertips down Esa’s cheek. The young man greeted his caress as greedily as if he were gulping at a desert mirage.

Such a darling, despite his sass mouth and foul temper. The back of his mind corrected, _You’re thinking with your dick. This dangerous twink is nobody’s darling._

Needing a good look at the younger’s undercarriage, he placed both hands on Esa’s chest to nudge him back a step.

Instead of budging, Esa grabbed his wrist in a steel grip and slung him back. “Don’t fuckin’ push me.”

His travel violent but not painful, Tom blinked in surprise. “Sorry.”

Esa dragged his knuckles over his eyes. “Shit, my bad. I know ya didn’t mean shit by—”

“Hey, it’s okay. Everything’s okay.” Never good with emotions, Tom already regretted asking, “You need to talk?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Esa waved him off.

“Oh, you’re something alright, baby boy.” Despite the twink’s teasing grin, Tom hated himself for accepting that answer. But he had the most beautiful man in the world in this room, and he’d have a first-class ticket to hell before he failed to take advantage of that. “I want to get a good look at you, all of you, before the cheap, meaningless sex.”

An inner light blazed inside Esa as a cruel humor twisted his features. “Ya know why men like masterbatin’ so much?”

 _This is going to be horrible._ “I don’t know; why?”

“It’s like sex but with someone ya love.” While he snickered, he eased forward for Tom’s perusal.

Starting with his rough buzz cut, eyes following hands, Tom explored the major planes of his unrefined companion. No outward sign of infection, no broken skin other than the cuts on his back, and no hint of IV drug abuse. Curving penis in hand, a few light strokes brought the young man to an erection so hard it had to be painful. Partially circumcised, his scar formed a prominent ring between the pink head and brown shaft.

Tom licked his finger before tracing over the line. “So many scars, baby boy, and you’re still perfect.”

Esa’s dick jumped in his hand. “Bestn’t tease me like that; I might wind up with a big head.”

“Oh? It gets bigger?” Tom gave a firm tug.

Corded muscle bunched and his eyelids fluttered. “Fuck.”

Tom got the impression that Esa muttered that every time he had an emotion he couldn’t name. The young man was a mess. Tom didn’t have time for a mess. Shit, he was a horrible person. But even horrible people had needs, and he’d ignored his for too long already.

“Bottom or top?”

Esa blinked at him. “I doan’t see no bunk beds?”

“Do you prefer to be the pitcher or the catcher?”

Flames licked the man’s ears and cheeks. “I always take it like a chick.”

“Perfect.” He hadn’t expected the butch little teddy bear to bottom, but it’d been too long since he’d dipped his wick.

Across the room, Tom stripped off the rest of his clothes. He hung his suit and shirt, folded his tartan boxers, and lay his argyle socks by his lucky shoes: navy-blue suede wingtips, the last bastion of the rebellious rock and roll dreams of his youth.

After a short battle to free the foil packet from its snug leather case, he turned to find Esa kneeling on the bed. As much as Tom wanted to spend hours toying with his new friend, the sight brought him to full mast, his body refusing to wait any longer.

Before tearing into the condom, he asked, “You good?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

Not fool enough to expect enthusiasm from a prostitute, he accepted that as the final word. Pausing only to unroll the prophylactic, he knelt behind Esa. Pressure firm and steady he pushed inside the welcoming heat. “Oh, baby boy, that’s so tight.”

Esa rolled his hips, taking Tom deeper.

“I knew you were an angel, but I never guessed you’d be the angel of the little death. Your body has taunted my hunger feral, honed my urges to a primal blade.”

Soon his cooed, florid lines died away. His deliberate strokes eroded into erratic and frenetic thrusts. Choked with lust, he forgot to breathe, to blink, forgot everything except the fire that had to be stoked higher before it could ever be quenched.

“Oh, yes, baby boy, just like that. Yes, please… please… please…” he begged as his need peaked. One more thrust, one more plea, and the abominations of his soul broke free, spewing deep into his doubly forbidden lover.

Spent, no less ravaged than the man who’d taken his wicked need into his yielding flesh, Tom collapsed beside Esa.

“You through with me?” Esa wore a hangdog pout that made him look even younger.

“Go if you want.” Sated, Tom nodded his assent with a heavy heart. “But I’d hoped…” He waved off the thought, too wilted to twist his lingering wants into words. “It’d be nice if you left your number.” He tied off the rubber and slipped it back into the foil to deal with later.

The young man chortled. “I wanna go jack it but I ain’t gotta. Not no time soon, anyway.”

“There’s lotion in my briefcase. Right now my bones are melted, but if you have fifteen minutes to burn, I’d be glad to give you a hand with that lovely, rock-hard dick.”

His companion cocked his head to one side and stared so long Tom checked that he hadn’t sprouted horns. “Did ya just offer to jerk me off?”

“I can run out and get more condoms if you’ve got your heart set on something more…?”

The young man’s mouth hung open. “Ya’d do that?”

“If you’ll clean up all the paper you threw across the room. And give me a few to pull myself together.”

“Ya know why a man’s like a soap opera?” Esa asked as he leaned off the foot of the bed, precariously reaching for the money on the floor.

Gah, the man’s jokes were terrible. “I don’t know; why?”

“Just when it’s gettin’ interestin’, it’s over til next time.”

“Let me guess, in addition to poetry, you had a book of bad sex jokes?”

“Yer smarter than ya look.”

“Gee, thanks.” Mind fuzzy, a scrap of Blake floated to the surface. “ _Tyger Tyger, burning bright, in the forests of the night; what immortal hand or eye, could frame thy fearful symmetry?_ ” The description suited the volatile man.

“ _On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire?_ ” A flicker of pride passed across Esa, gone as soon as it came. Whoever had beaten him down did so as effectively as conversion therapy.

“William Blake is by far my favorite.” Tom lolled to one side and opened his arms in hopes the fierce and damaged man would fall into them. “ _To see a World in a Grain of Sand and a Heaven in a Wild Flower, hold Infinity in the palm of your hand, and Eternity in an hour._ ”

“I don’t know that one.” Esa shriveled down again, as if certain he’d disappointed Tom. And more certain that disappointment required a pound of flesh.

Tom skipped ahead to the lines Esa embodied: “ _A Skylark wounded in the wing, a Cherubim does cease to sing._ ” When Esa relented, falling against him, Tom braved one small kiss on the man’s shoulder.

After work Tom had been preoccupied with other needs, and now his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t ate today. Again he felt annoyed with himself; he’d been too pumped by his success on the stroll to bother finding a better place. Well, he also feared the man would think he was being kidnapped, as it’d be several towns before they’d find a proper hotel.

“Hey, you hungry?” _Jackass, the man was on the stroll; no one walks the stroll with a full belly._

“I could go for a candy bar, maybe a burger.” The way he shrugged, like no one had bothered with him in a long time.

“No—”

“Hey, you asked.” Esa huffed but didn’t bow up, which Tom considered progress.

“No junk. I’m getting a meal. With veggies. So what do you like?”

“I ain’t picky. And I reckon I can afford it. If ya can break a hunnert.”

“Esa, just tell me what you want to eat. My treat. No strings. Whatever you’d like.”

That shrug again. “I’ll have whatever yer havin’.”

“Mexican it is.” Though far too soon, Tom got up to dress. “You can ride with me if you’d like? Pick anything off the menu; hell, pick two.”

Bitter poison laced his words: “I’ll eat ya outta house and home given half the chance.”

Tom filed that bit of rancor away for later thought. “I don’t mind. So coming or staying?” At the logical fallacy, he hurried to add, “Or going?”

“Definitely comin’. I ain’t had but half a warm beer today.” Once he’d tugged on his clothes, he sat on the bed to watch as Tom methodically tied his lucky shoes. “Why ya doin’ this?”

“Would you believe me if I said I want to?”

Eyes narrowed, he asked, “But why ya wanna?”

“On the rare occasion I pick up a hooker, I make certain you eat.” Before Esa could again ask why, he added, “Makes me feel less guilty.”

“Oh.” He slumped until his forearms rested on his thighs. “Glad ya do that for ever’body.”

“That’s an oddly altruistic sentiment.”

“Altru…?”

“Doing good for the sake of goodness.”

“Then I ain’t never been autistic a day in my life. Naw, just relieved ya ain’t treatin’ me special. Don’t take too kind to what folks want in return.”

Tom quirked a brow. When Esa didn’t supply more, he asked, “And what’s that?”

“Lots of shit. And ain’t none not hurt like hell.”

The ribbons of the man’s back came to mind, and Tom merely nodded.

Esa hadn’t been kidding about his appetite. He ordered two entrees and devoured both, with rice and beans, before Tom could eat his taco salad. A quick stop at the all-night pharmacy and they returned to the motel.

“So you still want that hand job? Blowjob?” Feeling wicked, Tom suggested, “Or maybe you’d like to fuck my ass?”

“Ya’d lemme do that?” Despite the excitement in his words, Esa fixed Tom in a harsh glare as if expecting him to rescind the offer.

Tom reminded the man, “I’ve paid you to do that.”

“Yeah, I reckon ya did.” He fished one of the foil packets from the box on the dresser. “How’s these things work?”

“You just… I’ll show you in a sec.” Once he’d undressed, Tom added a dab of lube to his hand before reaching for Esa. With a few strokes, the man again raged. “First you need to be hard.” He tore into the packet with his teeth. “Then figure out which side is up and roll it down. Like this… Nothing to it.”

While he stroked Esa through the rubber, the man grumbled, “It don’t feel right.”

“The sex will last longer. And you’ll get used to it. Besides, it really won’t feel right if you catch syphilis and your dick falls off.”

He wilted a little. “For real?”

“More likely with syphilis than leprosy.” _Time to change the subject, dumbass._ “Mmm, so thick, this is going to hurt so good.” Tom got to his hands and knees on the bed. “C’mon, baby boy, give me what you’ve got.”

Esa didn’t have to be told twice. However Tom wished he’d told the man to slather on some lube before thrusting into him. Though no drag like bareback, the sudden intrusion burned.

Sheet balled in his fists, he yelped. “Give a guy some warning next time.”

The fast, hard thrusts left Tom panting against the anguish. When his misty eyes overflowed, he glanced back, curious why Esa was being so rough. Their eyes met for only an instant before the younger man threw back his head. With a string of profanities, he jerked and shook until he collapsed against Tom’s back.

When Esa withdrew, Tom took the condom and tied it off. “Never fucked a dude before?” He shoved the rubber back into the foil packet and placed it beside its mate from earlier.

“Never fucked anything before.” He sat back on his heels, grinning widely. “Now I kinda see what all the fuss is about.”

That admission struck Tom square in the chest. He studied the man again. “You what?”

“I did it wrong, didn’t I? I saw the tears and…” Disgust washed over his features. “Shoulda known I’d fuck this up.” He had his shirt in his hands before Tom could even turn all the way around. “Shoulda known soon as I started lookin’ forward to next time.”

“Esa, sit the fuck down.” Tom put all the authority he possessed into the command.

The young man froze.

“Now.”

“Yes, sir.” He did as he was told.

“Did you just tell me you were a virgin?” Tom’s voice quivered, his stomach turning.

“I don’t reckon I ever been a virgin.”

“You…?” Disturbing thoughts crowded Tom’s mind. _One problem at the time_. He let that statement go for the moment. “You’d never fucked anyone before?”

He nodded.

Shit. “That was your first time?”

“Naw, I’ve been fucked for as long as I can remember.”

Intellectually, he knew many prostitutes had been abused. Yet the slap of reality left him speechless. Finally he asked, “Are you okay?”

“I feel great.”

Tom’s anxiety relented until an earlier question surged up from the back of his mind: “How old are you really?”

That shrug again, it made him want to find the person responsible and do something horrible. Not that he would but he wanted to. “Dunno.”

“How can you not know how old you are?” At the young man’s dazed stare, Tom asked, “Well, what grade are you in? You’re still in high school, right?”

“Doubt I’ll make it that far.”

“What grade?” Tom demanded, now certain he didn’t want to know.

“Sixth.”

Before Tom could even convert the grade to an age, he sprinted for the bathroom, stopping short to puke in the trashcan.

“I didn’t mean to cause no trouble. Look, I’ll just go. I ain’t yer problem.”

Between heaves, Tom said, “You stay… right there… don’t move… a muscle.” This was bad, but he had to know exactly how bad. Once he felt safe to spit and wipe his face with the back of a hand, he stood up. “And those cuts?”

“Didn’t bring home my allowance.”

“Someone’s taking your money, cutting you if you don’t have enough?” Disgust for all of humanity leaked from every pore of Tom’s body. “That’s why you were on the stroll?” Spittle flew as he spoke, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Esa cringed from his raving. “Well… I mean… Yeah?”

Voice barely above a whisper, he hissed. “Some sick puke needs to die. Ever so slowly.” Worked into a righteous fury, he still didn’t have the balls to blow a hole whoever had turned the kid out.

So he should call the cops.

And tell them what, precisely? That he’d been fucking this kid when he learned that he was being abused in ways even Tom couldn’t comprehend? The only thing the God-fearing locals hated more than a faggot was a pedophile faggot. A jury of his peers would see him hang for being gay, much less bedding a kid.

“Thought ’bout killin’ ’em. Reckon I thought about it a lot.” Esa’s shark grin held a tinge of volatile emotion Tom feared to label.

To himself Tom muttered, “Okay, just calm down. Slow down and think.” Before turning toward the bathroom, he pointed a shaky finger at Esa. “You stay.”

_Well, that explains why he’s telling those bad jokes like a kid._

_…should have known, should have known, should have known…_

That idea needled Tom, but he needed to stop berating himself if he wanted to do anything effective to help Esa. Maybe Tom’s job consumed his life, ruined every relationship, but he’d make this tryst count for more than a come-stained sheet in hopes he might get some decent sleep tonight.

_Definitely not sleeping tonight. Might as well call out of work._

Maybe no one would ever find out. That hope brought nothing but loathing. He’d always know, and he wasn’t certain how to live with himself.

“Ya alright in there?”

“Naw,” Tom replied, imitating Esa’s drawl, not much stronger than the native accent he’d worked so hard to shake. “I doan’t reckon I am.” He sucked down another breath to keep from passing out on the toilet seat.

“Need help?”

“No! You do _nothing_ until I figure out what happens next. This could ruin me.” _Has ruined me._ “Just stay put.”

“Man, I gotta whiz.”

“Fine.” Tom stalked out of the bathroom. “But don’t leave this motel room until I say so.”

Once the pee started flowing, Tom realized the kid hadn’t bothered to shut the door, but he was pretty certain that didn’t matter anymore.

“…Ya know, it ain’t like yer my first.”

“That just pisses me off more. Did someone really turn you out to hook for your supper?”

“Eh, don’t worry about that. I ain’t.” He leaned against the doorframe, still enticing.

“Wow, I definitely have a problem.” The truth spilled from his lips even as he willed the words back. “I know you’re a kid, and I’d still fuck you.” Tom could call the police and just hang himself before the lynch mob got to him.

“So next time’s back on? ’Cause you keep runnin’ hot and cold on that.”

 _But I don’t want to die._ “I just wanted to wet my noodle.” The childish words squeezed from his chest with the desperation of a battlefield prayer, one he knew would never be answered.

Esa’s snicker came across as outrageously filthy. “Me too. Kinda wanna do it again.”

“Baby boy—” oh, shit, his baby boy really was a baby boy “—when I was your age, I was still trying to be straight, still trying to kiss girls—”

“Hey, I’m no faggot.” He crossed his arms over his tee in offense.

Irked, Tom mirrored the posture. “Well I am and I just fucked your ass.”

“But I like the girls.” The kid looked so lost when he said that.

Tom had more dire concerns than semantics. “I meant you shouldn’t be climbing into cars to be fucked by strangers. You should be holding hands with your girlfriend and still working up the courage to kiss her.”

“Yeah, maybe. If I was somebody else. But I ain’t.”

That brought Tom to focus on the facts of his situation: the kid—too young to know any better and too sexy to resist—grinned as he settled into the worn chair of a motel room—where Tom had brought him, fucked him, and been fucked by him. The kid apparently had no motivation to stop hooking, and Tom couldn’t do anything to fix that. So how could he help?

To buy time to think, he asked, “Anyone ever tell you you’re big for your age?”

“I’m the biggest kid in my class, but I been held back for not showin’ up.”

 _So a teen?_ Maybe. Somehow that news didn’t inspire any warm fuzzies in Tom’s breast.

At least his brain kicked into gear. “Okay, first thing tomorrow you and I are going to see Matt at the health center.” If anyone could keep his mouth shut, it would be Matt. He would run the tests as if it were Tom’s blood, or he’d break both the perv’s legs.

Or do nothing as usual, but Matt wouldn’t know that. _I’m such a hypocrite._

Amusement broke over Esa’s cunning features. “So… this is now a sleepover?”

“Yeah—yes.” Tom ran both hands through his disheveled hair. “Fuck if I know. But you need to get checked out. After that, you’ll probably be on strong antibiotics for a while. If you’re lucky.” He leaned down, eye to eye with the boy. “As of this moment, you never have sex without a condom unless you’re in a committed, exclusive relationship. Not as a top and not as a bottom. Not even a blowjob. You hear me?”

“And what if I don’t?”

Tom took both his hands. “Baby boy, I cannot force you. But I want you to promise me. And I want you to mean it.”

Esa glanced to his own crotch. “I reckon I’d rather my pecker not fall off.”

“Promise me.”

“Yes, sir, I promise.” He even seemed earnest.

Still not good enough, Tom asked, “Promise what?”

“I promise I won’t fuck nothin’ and nothin’ won’t fuck me without a condom.” He looked sheepish as he added, “Though I don’t know how I’m s’posed to afford that.”

“You charge five hundred an hour.”

“Ha! Ain’t nobody got that kind of jack. ’Cept you.”

Tom couldn’t believe he was actually going to explain this. “People can and will pay top dollar. You just have to find them. The feds are always cracking down on prostitution websites, but we’ll find the right places to put your contact info. Off the stroll your overall risk of waking up dead in a ditch will drop. Just stay off the dark web, or you’ll run into the hard-up psychos.”

“Computer? Shit, man, I ain’t even got one of them phones.”

“We’ll get you a phone and a laptop tomorrow. Nobody uses them but you. Ever. You understand?”

“Got it. No one even sees the phone or the laptop. No one gets nothin’ without a condom.” At Tom’s prompt, he added, “And no one gets nothin’ without payin’ out the ass.”

Spent, Tom toppled to the bed. “There’s so much you need to know. And you needed to know it Tuesday. Of last week. Two years ago.”

“But school’s out for now?” Those words rose with a lilt.

Tom raised his head to check Esa’s expression. “Yes. For now.”

“So we can fuck again?” The kid positively glowed.

“Let me calm down before I even try to answer that.” Everything about this was wrong. Even as he patted the spot beside him, he wished he’d gone straight home.

Except then Esa would have no one.

Tom felt like a shitheel as the bed dropped under the kid’s weight. “I wish I was strong enough to tell you no, to drag you to the police, to kill the people who are supposed to be taking care of you. I wish I was that man—I do—but I’m not.” Tom wrapped an arm around the kid. “I have no spine and barely enough morals to keep my ass in one piece.”

Esa flushed hot in Tom’s arms. “Can I tell ya somethin’?”

“You might as well. I know too much already.”

“I hate ’em for makin’ me cry, but yer tears…” Timid he reached for Tom’s face, stroking the path down from his tired eyes. “That was fuckin’ amazin’. Like I had all the power in the world.”

“You’re gonna— _going to_ —learn to control that too.” He kissed Esa’s temple. “And don’t do me that rough again.”

Since a quick fling once a month had never satisfied anyone, not even Tom if he were honest, the day would come to set his baby boy free. Until then Tom would take whatever Esa offered, share him out of necessity—pay whether the kid liked it or not and feel honored to do so. But when that day came, Tom vowed as his fingers brushed over the fresh tatters of the kid’s back, Esa would understand mastery.

He nodded against Tom’s chest. “I still hate ’em for makin’ me cry like that. But now at least I understand.”

“Baby boy, you don’t understand even half of it. _‘Why do you thus devise evil against her?’ ‘For that she is beautiful, delicate; therefore.’_ Crapsey’s a bit rare but a real gem.”

“I ain’t delicate,” Esa protested.

“No, suppose not.” Tom didn’t have any solution for the kid, so Esa might as well tough it out, provided he didn’t want to try the foster system.

“And my lil’ brother is way purdier than me.”

Tom bolted up in panic. “Shit—”

Like a posturing gorilla Esa thumped his chest. “Ain’t nobody gonna do nothin’ to Colt! I’ll rip their heart out!” Sincere in his violence, his baby boy had some chops.

Unlike Tom. “Good. Protect him.” _Because I can’t bear the thought of another kid breaking._

“I do. And I keep ’im good and far away so I can’t hurt ’im like they done me.” He held up his hands, focused on his knuckles.

Tom studied them as well, noting the bruises. “Fight a lot?”

“Mostly run off Colt and his little buddy so I don’t fuck ’em up.” After a deep breath he admitted, “I always thought Colt’s daddy meant I’d do that same nasty shit to Colt, but it’s his little buddy that I wanna turn inside out, make ’im scream while I’m gettin’ off.”

Tom couldn’t even remotely handle this discussion. “I thought you liked the girls?”

“Yeah, I like the girls, but this kid, he’s everywhere. Even when I’m asleep, he’s right there. And his blood—it’s like nothin’ else in this world. All glittery and so sweet smellin’ I wanna roll in it.”

For the first time, Tom felt a bit of worry for Esa, which only marked the grown-ass man that much more pathetic. “But you keep away from him and your brother, don’t even chance hurting them?”

“Yeah.” The sadness of his smile brought an ache to Tom’s chest. “I’m like you; I wish I was differnt. I wish I could trust myself.”

Overwhelmed Tom sank into his pillow. “Shush. Let me rest my eyes. I need to think.”

“Sure thing… old man.” Esa’s wicked grin stoked urges Tom preferred to ignore.

“Oh, you were so wrong; you are something special.” Tom made a quick decision. “I’ll tell you my other big secret if you want.”

“Other secret?”

“You better believe everything we’ve done—everything we ever do—has to be secret. If this slips, I won’t last the week. It doesn’t matter that I thought I was picking up a prostitwinkie in his twenties. No one will care that your voice says you’re at least seventeen.” He cupped Esa’s face so the boy would pay close attention. “Everything you’ve endured will become my fault in the eyes of all the good folk of Cottonfield. It won’t matter that some of the things that were done to you can make your body mature early.”

“How would you know what’s been done to me?” Esa stiffened, his glare sullen and angry.

Tom didn’t flinch from the boy’s scrutiny. “I had syphilitic meningitis. It attacked my pituitary gland. Puberty slammed me straight to hell about the time I started school.”

“So you know? I mean, you really know?” He scrunched his nose.

“Yes, baby boy, I know. I was used when I wasn’t old enough to understand. Then came the rages. Everyone expected me to be an adult when I wasn’t. And, holy hell, the frustration of a body that needs sex before your mind has grown up. Through it all I was so alone I wanted to die.” Tom petted the kid’s arm in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, a promise that he would always be one phone call away. “I also know what it’s like to grow like a weed but then wind up stunted. The doctor could have fixed that if I’d been treated sooner.”

Esa pressed tighter against Tom’s side. “So prob’ly too late for me?”

“Might not even be a problem for you. But we’ll find out.”

Tom didn’t remember drifting off, but he woke to dry humping. “Easy there, Tigger; what, your bottom made out of springs?”

“You said you understand,” Esa whined.

“And I do, but you have to understand too.” He rolled over. “This is hard for me, damaging.”

“So there’s no next time?” Pouting only made the kid more desirable.

“Blazes, Esa, I can’t turn you down, but that doesn’t mean it won’t cost me.”

“Oh.” Biting his tongue his features twisted in thought. “So… I can do it again? Now?”

Tom covered his face with his hands, his self-loathing overwhelming. If he were going to follow his heart— _your dick—_ instead of his head, he might as well make the best of it. “Let the good times roll.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> For an aural treat check out the trailer I made for Tipping the Scales but couldn't really use. Warning: It's kinda loud and very naughty.
> 
> https://youtu.be/LZ4W35miEcs


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